Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
by VanKid
Summary: Ray started to have unusual, frightening nightmares everytime he closes his eyes to sleep. The other Ghostbusters never took this seriously; to them it's just a dream. But dreams can bring dangerous reality sometimes...
1. Chapter 1 : The Nightmare

Chapter 1 : The Nightmare

The ground was of green and pink mixed in a blurry marble floor. Rainbows emerged from the ocean blue sky. The trees and flowers, all the animals were of eternal beauty no one can ever see in the real world. The hills were singing songs, the birds chirped in harmony with them, and the rivers played a gentle bass. Such sights are what everyone wanted to dream of…

_Dream?_

Ray blinked his eyes again. Again. And again. _This couldn't be a dream! It looks almost real…but it's too beautiful to even be one._

He, with a courageous heart but a curious and childish mind, began to explore the wonderful world he had set his feet on. A big grin began to appear on his young face as he played among the pretty butterflies and shimmering dew of the morning roses. He jumped, he skipped. Such freedom he had never tasted before. He stopped and inhaled the fresh air. _If only I can breathe this air again…if only I can stay here forever…_

_I can help you with that…_

_Who's there?_ In reflex as an instant respond, Ray turned around to the echo of the deep voice. What he saw was horrific in any eyes that could see – trees began to melt into mush, flowers withered tearfully, animals rot into bloody carcasses, hills started to vomit hot, hectic lava…and the sky…the sky turned into the ugliest purple haze, swallowing the grand, white sunlight.

What he saw…was a nightmare.

Ray screamed at the top of his lungs as the decaying black sky spiraled into a huge ingesting black hole. He never even had the slightest thought of asking where, who or what was really happening, or more importantly, why was he there?

He shouted for help in the deafening windy sound of the sucking vortex. The sound shattered into a faint but heavy laugh. An evil laugh. _Stop it! Oh, please, if this is really a dream, someone please wake me up!! _He gripped the dead, long grass rooted to the soil helplessly, while his feet were already pointing at the center of the twister. _Someone please help me!_

Then a stinging pain came right in the middle of his right hand, causing him to lose grip. He cut his right hand in a small but deep inch-long slice, but the ache didn't halt him from panicking as he was sucked into the black abyss…

_No! _

_

* * *

_

A dim murmur surfaced to his senses accompanied by a shy peek of the yellow bulb light. A figure appeared in his hazy vision of his quarter-opened eyelids, shadowing the light that spilled before his face. His own voice began to sound clear in his ears. His voice became louder than usual …he's not talking. After a few seconds, only then he realized that he was screaming. He jerked and immediately opened his eyes, only to see Peter, Winston and Slimer surrounding him on the …on the floor beside his badly crusted bed.

'Earth calling Ray Stantz, do you read us, Mr. Stantz?' Peter jokingly poked his chubby friend's nose. Ray just sat on the wooden tiles, staring blankly at Peter while catching up with his breathing. 'Whoa, man! No need to shake the firehouse at three in the morning. You okay?' Winston asked, ignoring Peter who was giggling at Ray's timeless expression.

'Yeah, Ray okay?' asked Slimer for conformation, although his sound on Ray's name sounded more like 'ayy' with a heavy but slightly pitched voice. Slimer offered Ray his slimy hand as Ray's breathing slowly paced in and out of his lungs. Feeling that his inhalation and exhalation were at their norm, Ray spoke as he held on the green spud's hand, 'Sorry, guys. It was just a nightmare I was having these few days…don't know why I keep having them; they all seemed to have the same bad ending.'

'Maybe you watched too much over-rated movies, Ray.' Peter said as he walked sleepily towards his own bed. Winston shrugged to Ray and finally yawned. He, too, retreated to his bunk.

As Ray pulled himself up, he felt a striking sting on the palm of his hand. 'Oww!' he yanked his hand quickly from Slimer's when he was stable on his own feet. He turned his hand, positioning his right palm towards his face. A fresh, deep cut glared angrily into his eyes.

_Where did I cut my hand? Where? On the grass. The grass. The long, dead grass._

_The black hole._

Ray squinted his eyes; not as a reaction towards the throbbing pain, but to forget about that nightmare. 'Aii, Ray hurt!' Slimer immediately flew through the cupboard and brought out a first aid kit. Ray sat on his bed, staring at his sleeping friends. 'Thanks Slimer, but I'll do it myself' said Ray, as he took the white box with an engraved red plus on its cover from the worried, mumbling ghost. Ray helped himself with the wound; cleaning and wrapping it with bandages.

'Sleep well, Slimer.' Ray put the kit back into the cupboard and turned the lights off. The bedroom was dark again. He sauntered slowly towards his bed and lie down. Slimer was already snoring, floating and sleeping at the same time. Everyone in the firehouse was already asleep. No calls in these wee hours of the morning. No sound made in the street nearby. Such peaceful, silent moment in the darkness; perfect for a good night's sleep.

_But no, I'll never sleep now_. Ray fixed his gaze to the old ceiling, at times looking at his wounded hand, now covered with layers of white, clean bandages. He thought about how he exactly he got the cut. Maybe he got it during the fall.He did this till the first white light emerged from the east horizon.

_Never sleep again._


	2. Chapter 2 : The Drug

Chapter 2: The Drug

The morning street was crowded with motorized vehicles, screeching their tires and honking their horns while bringing their owners to work and school. People who cared less to own a car walked to and fro across the street, passing each other without a word of hello or goodbye, or a simple smile on their faces. Everyone wanted to end this day fast, and wished for that good dinner and warm bed at night.

Janine arrived at the firehouse, bringing a bag full of vegetables, beef and some raw spaghetti to cook for lunch. She also didn't forget two boxes o' dozen doughnuts for the annoying but loveable green ghost. It was just another day for her in the Ghostbusters headquarters.

'Guys! Rise and shine…' she yelled out as she walked up the stairs carrying the big paper bag in her arms. 'Oh, good morning, Janine…' came a familiar voice from the lounge. The tired voice didn't scare her. She placed the bag on the dining table and glanced at the couch. There Ray was sitting slump on the soft cushions of the three-seated sofa, still in his pajamas. Dark semi circles formed below his weary, sleepless eyes.

'Gosh, Ray…you looked like you were chasing ghosts all night. Did the bed bugs bite you or something?' She emptied the contents of the bag onto the old but well-polished table. Ray sighed and rubbed his left eye with his fist, 'Boy, I wished, Janine. I can barely close my eyes. If I sleep, I'll get these weird nightmares…and they all seemed so real…' Ray got up to his feet and followed Janine to the small kitchen, right next to the lounge. 'And it seemed my body reacted with the dream, made me scream and frail my limbs in bed violently…'

Janine bent over and put in the vegetables into the refrigerator to make sure they stay fresh up till lunchtime. 'That sounded like a very serious mental problem, Ray.' She took out a bubblegum from her purse, opened the wrapper and placed the pink marble into her mouth. 'No offense, really…but you really need an expert help. I mean a doctor professional in sleeping disorders, of course.' Janine walked towards the stairs, folding the paper bag on the way.

'But I'm not sick, Janine! It's just the dreams; they're…they're haunting me,' Ray said as he caught up with her at the top of the stairs. Janine giggled and said, 'Owh, Ray…you can bust bad ghosts and eerie houses, I think you can do the same to a … haunting dream.' She blew a huge bubble until it popped, as a sign that their conversation had ended. She walked down the stairs towards her desk, leaving Ray standing in silence.

_Can I really…stop this nightmare?_

* * *

'There must be a fairly good explanation on why you asked me this, Ray,' exclaimed Egon without taking his eyes off from the machine he just worked on last month, yet to be tested for something none of the other Ghostbusters knew. Ray walked left to right, right to left nervously behind his tall friend, trying to put in a few good, convincing sentences about his problem. 'Because…I think that with an artificial gateway through the dream dimension, there's a chance I can suppress the frantic nightmares I'm having now.' He paused for a reply, but didn't get any. 'We can try to build a machine to achieve this, can't we? Egon?'

Egon stopped and placed his crosshead turnscrew on his working desk nearby. He took off his glasses, and rubbed out the small speckle at the corner of the right lense with his handkerchief. 'Ray, dreams are formed through the connection between the conscious and the subconscious mind. You are technically walking through your memory palace in your brain, like watching old family home-made videos.' He wore his round, red-rimmed glasses back. 'Besides, the unconscious reflexes of your body when you sleep were caused by some defects in the delta waves your brain produced during the four stages of the REM sleep, failing to relax your muscle tone fully. In other words, there is no such thing as a 'dream dimension'. Those hectic nightmares you had are just normal and they are not dangerous'

'Oh, I see…well, I'll leave you to your work then.' Ray strolled out of the machine room, sighing heavily. _Man, how am I going to solve this problem?_

Ray walked towards the kitchen, took out the mug he just washed, a jar of coffee beans and sugar. He also took the thermos with the hot water in it. He brought all the stuff to the dining table and blended himself a nice, strong coffee. Winston was sitting right across him, reading the newspaper. When he smelled the coffee, Winston folded the newspaper and looked at Ray, surprised. 'Whoa, Ray, my man! This must be the third mug you gulped down this morning.' Ray sipped the hot black beverage. 'I can't help it, Winston…I don't want to fall asleep in the middle of the job…' He took a hard, hot gulp of the coffee. 'Don't want to face the nightmares again…'

Winston chuckled. 'Geez, Ray. If you really want to stop dreaming, you won't get to anywhere.' Ray smirked. 'I tell you what, Ray; I saw this ad in the papers.' Winston unfolded the newspaper and opened the advertisement section. He shoved the bundle of papers to Ray, and pointed at a medical commercial. 'This sounds ridiculous, and I don't really believe in pills. But it might work for you…' The advertisement was about new medically-approved pills called Hypnocil, just arrived from a research hospital in Ohio. Ray read the short description, 'Assuring a good night's sleep…the pills tone down muscle reflexes during slumber…and…suppressing dreams?' Ray looked at Winston, full of curiosity and questions in his eyes.

'Hey, that's why I say, I don't believe in pills,' Winston said as he stood up and walked down the stairs, to tune up Ecto-1.

* * *

Ray went down to the garage. Winston was already under Ecto-1 – the ambulance-hearse that had helped them in every mission of ghost-busting – probably fixing a current leakage in the oil pipes. Janine was at her desk, reading a recent edition of Celebrity magazine while chewing her bubblegum. Peter was reading comics at his main office, as usual. Slimer was nowhere to be found._ No calls came in today. Good_. Ray grabbed his windbreaker and wore them as a protection to the cold, strong wind that indicated the coming of autumn. He walked towards the drugstore, in hopes of finding this Hypnocil. 

The drugstore was just four blocks away from the firehouse. Ray decided to just walk instead of borrowing Ecto or Janine's pink buggy. On the way he thought about his quick action on this matter. _What if the drug won't work? What if the drug provides me with a dangerous side-effect, which can probably infect the others? If it does work, how long would it take effect on my nightmares?_

_What if I die before it can even help me?_

BUMP! Ray's body slightly changed its course to the left. 'Sorry…' Ray said with a smile to the gentleman he collided with, who unfortunately returned the smile with mumbles under his breathe, which somehow sounded like curses. Drowned in his deep thoughts, Ray didn't realize he was already in front of the huge but old pharmacy. He went in and was greeted by the whoosh of hot air from the heater. He took off his windbreaker and dangled it on his left arm. He walked through the aisles, searching for the sleeping pills section. _Where is it?_

'Can I help you, sir?' Ray jumped. The young pharmacist looked confused and his eyes told Ray he was sorry to frighten him all of the sudden. 'Oh, yes, yes…I…I am searching for a medical drug called…Hypnocil?' The word hummed like a joyful song in the pharmacist eardrums, and he grinned. 'Yes, sir. The drug just arrived in stock yesterday.' He walked down an aisle signed 'Depressants and Painkillers'. Ray followed him.

The pharmacist took down a glass jar full of pink pills from the second top shelf and handed Ray the jar. The label on the container clearly said 'Hypnocil'. 'Would that be all, sir? If so, do follow me up to the counter.' As Ray pursued the man, he asked, 'Is this drug safe?' The pharmacist, not answering Ray's question directly, opened up a slightly different conversation. 'Having nightmares, I presumed. Well, the drug do work on nightmares, keeps you away from bad things, bad memories...even bad men. You know, like…' He turned a bit towards Ray from his left. He formed a claw-like pose on his right hand and scraped the air. He made a clawing sound and then chuckled at his own stupid joke.

But Ray didn't take it as a joke. He didn't take it at all.

* * *

There was no fire alarm going off for the rest of the day. Another quiet one, no business done. It was a pretty usual day for not having any clients. Sometimes they didn't receive any spooky cases for a month. Hope this day wasn't the beginning of such boring weeks… 

Egon was already in his bed, snoring. His spectacles were placed next to his pillow, glimmering in the bedroom light. 'Egon must be really tired, working on that machine for hours. He even skipped dinner,' said Winston to Peter, in a clear voice with an addition to a few swish-swash as he brushed his teeth. Peter wiped out the cold water from his face with a dry towel, 'Yeah, wonder what kind of destructor device he's working on…hey! Let go off the towel, Slimer!!' Slimer, the green friendly ghost just grabbed the other end of Peter's towel, wiped his face with it and left a slimy print of his own face on it. Slimer quickly flew out of the bathroom when Peter began to explode in rage.

Slimer went to the dining hall, and saw Ray swallowed a pill. 'What's that, Ray?' asked Slimer, although the question sounded like 'whas dat ayy?' in his usual tone of heavy and pitched noise mixed up. Ray drank the glass of water, finished it and smiled at the ghost. 'Just a sleeping pill, spud. Help me to sleep well.' Slimer exclaimed joyfully in gibberish words and flew into the bedroom to join the slumber party.

The others were already asleep on their beds in the dark room. Peter's analog clock was ticking on the counter through the silent night. A distant roaring of car engines sounded through the open window. But most of the ticking seconds, the sound drowned in another world; different from the ones you and I knew. So silent, so calm, so peaceful.

Ray glanced at the ceiling while listening to the sound of silence surrounding his vision and hearing distance. The drowsiness began to engulf him into another planet. The dark room became blacker. The small sounds became further away. _One, two, three…_ Ray counted for the seconds according to the clock's fainting ticks. He closed his eyes fully, and relaxed his body onto the soft sheets of his bed. He breathed deeply while hugging a Stay Puft Marshmallow soft toy in his arms. _Here it comes._

…_nine, ten._


	3. Chapter 3 : The Little Girl

Chapter 3: The Little Girl

KRINNGGGGG!!!!!!!

The fire alarm went off from the firehouse as the sun cast a long shadow approximately towards the west. Janine pressed the red button located at the right side of her working desk, long enough until the boys slid down the fireman pole. As they reached the ground floor, they quickly ran to their lockers, wore their jumpsuits and packed up their proton packs into Ecto-1. When all the Ghostbusters seemed ready, she let the button go.

'Alright, boys! There's a mass haunting at a hotel in Brooklyn.' Janine tore and handed in the small note paper with a clear scribble of the address to Peter. 'They're having a function at three, so they need the place cleaned up within…' Janine looked at her watch; the long arrow was catching up with the small one at nine, '…5 hours.' Peter looked at the address and smirked, 'We'll bust 'em clean before noon…so, Janine. What's for lunch?' Janine stared at Peter above her huge glasses, with an oh-get-lost look, 'Slimes and molds, with the watery taste of your unwashed socks if you don't get yourself into the car, like, now.'

The garage door, which also functioned as the main entrance to the firehouse, opened and heaved Ecto-1 out of the building. The hearse's ambulance sirens echoed against the concrete forest of Manhattan; a contrast noise in the quiet and calm Friday morning. Winston drove the car, as usual, but there weren't many cars on the street, so he forced Ecto's engine to hum near similar to a racing car. The speedy driving never really distracted the other Ghostbusters, though.

'Gee, Ray. You looked…different,' said Peter with his obviously fake surprised tone in his voice. 'More…awake, I should say.' Ray – sitting at the passenger seat beside Winston, who was concentrating on the road - formed a big, happy grin on his face and without looking at the backseat said, 'You think so? I really had a good night's sleep these past few days.' He let out a great sigh of relief of the thought. _No more nightmares._

'So the Hypnocil really worked?' Egon's rough voice appeared all of sudden; loud and clear beneath the siren. 'Yeah! I guess you can say that…' _Wait a minute._ Ray turned and looked at Egon straight to the eyes, and asked in a determined voice, 'How did you know about the Hypnocil?' Egon – looking confused as if he was a criminal about to hear the word 'guilty' from the judge – cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to check on the P.K.E. meter. After a few seconds of silence, he finally said 'I…I read about in the newspaper …I'm not always a books-and-manuals person, you know.'

Ray turned and faced Ecto's wide windshield. He wasn't satisfied with Egon's answer. Somehow, deep inside, he knew Egon was interested in the pills. Egon was always interested in things he found useful for his own personal research, or….

…_he's having nightmares too?_

* * *

'We're here!' exclaimed Winston, as he pushed the brake pedal with his left foot; parking Ecto-1 at a lot, close to the hotel's entrance door. The Royal Tenor Hotel – a French-influenced hotel but with a nice touch of Art Deco on the exterior – claimed a good twenty-five stories in height; pushing the other buildings around it into a noticeable comparison. The grand, crystal chandelier in the main lobby was visible within the massive glass windows above the entrance; spilling out a few glistening reflection of the sunlight into the ground floor of the building. This was a fairly clear reason why the hotel stood up more than any other building around the area at night. 

Winston turned the engine off as all the other Ghostbusters got out of the mobile. Ray helped Peter with the proton packs, while Egon checked on his P.K.E. meter for the scale of the ghouls they were about to exterminate. Winston walked to the boot of the car, and instantly became aware of Ray's thoughtful expression. 'You okay, Stantz?' It took a while for Ray to answer Winston with a soft 'Yes.' Peter, who couldn't help but observe his companion's face, finally said as a token to cheer him up, 'Relax, Ray. We'll shoot and trap those ghosts by noon; like good ol' Texas cowboys on a robbing trip.' Peter walked past Egon, leading the group towards the door. 'Besides, I don't want to eat Slimer's mucous and Egon's collection for lunch…not to mention my dirty laundries…'

They wore and locked the proton packs tight on their backs. Each of them brought three traps; in case the specters were more than they expected. They even had a walkie-talkie each, since every one of the hotel's floor was like a hedge maze from The Shining film. Just as they were about to enter into the lobby, the door swung open and there came out a slender man with pale, barely wrinkled skin and a thin, black moustache with a small curl at both ends. He wore a lavish dark tuxedo, possibly tailored by crafty hands and a dark grey bow to match up with the tone of his clothes. His sudden appearance at the door made the Ghostbusters jumped.

'Ahh…_messieurs_! We've been expecting your arrival,' said the man in English, invaded by an apparent French accent. His name was Jean Brule, as stated on his shiny pin badge at the left chest of his tuxedo. '_Oui_. Come, follow me.' He led the Ghostbusters inside straight towards the elevator door, embedded with expensive-looking gold colored flower imprints. The man, possibly the owner's assistant, pressed the 'UP' button as he spoke out in a butler way of style, 'There's been disturbance in the ballroom at the third floor. So tenants also complained about _inattendu_ wails and moving objects on the tenth floor.'

The elevator door opened, revealing a wide space fit for a good 30 adults at one go. Mr. Brule continued, 'You need to finish this job quick. The _fantômes_ never troubled me, oh, _non_, _messieurs_. But the customers, _mon dieu_, their complaints made me crazy!'

'Ray, Winston. You guys check on the hallways of the tenth floor. Peter and I will take the ballroom.' Egon interrupted the man's long, mixed talk of English and French. Ray and Winston nodded in agreement. As Egon and Peter went off to the third floor, Ray and Winston continued their journey up the shaft towards the tenth; together with the drone of the modern machinery and the mumbling French man; perhaps cursing in French for Egon's untimely disruption. He managed himself to the eighth floor, by the way.

'Alright, Winston! Ready for some swashbuckling action?' asked Ray, all of sudden excited with the thought of finding some class five ghosts. If they were lucky, they might catch a few class six or seven. Boy, wouldn't that be fun? 'Ay! Anything you say, matey…' Winston smiled and turned on his proton pack. Ray did the same. 'I take the left, you take the right,' Ray motioned Winston, and he nodded. They strolled quietly through the empty hallway, each facing in the opposite direction of the other.

It didn't take long for Ray to detect the nasty poltergeists. There were three of them; excitedly joking among themselves with a priceless antique. A China vase – filled once with white lilies; which now occupied one of the ghost's head – was being tossed around, like a simple ball play between preschool children. Their floating, full torso vapors were distinguishable against the maroon wallpaper, and their spine-chilling shrills and laughter echoed in the empty, dark hallway. He approached them slowly; full of stealth towards the ghouls…the nozzle in his right hand, with his left ready on the trap. He smiled.

_Ay, me hearties…some swashbuckling action at last!_

* * *

The traps were fuming hot, choking white smokes, just seconds after the small double-doors of the Ghostbusters' custom-made 'ghost-prisons' were closed; indicating that Ray had done a good job trapping the three phantoms all together at one shot. He held the traps by the wire, like that of a winner for the biggest fish caught in the fishing contest at a town's fair. He still had the nozzle in his hand, just in case. He looked around the at the 'battle area'. _Not too many damages, thank goodness_. A few burns on the lovely wallpaper were all that was unmistakably visible. It was a pity though for the invaluable porcelain to shatter at the wall. 

Ray hung the occupied traps at his belt. 'Two hot, steaming traps comin' right up!' Ray pronounced to the unattended audiences. The empty one was still attached to the proton pack. He grabbed the walkie-talkie from his jumpsuit's breast pocket, just to make sure how his friends were doing. Then, suddenly, he stopped. Silence, as if time was taking a slow walk through the ticking seconds.

_Wind?_

Ray gripped the padded handle of the proton nozzle tightly. He was sure the wind came from right behind of him; he can feel that cold whisper at his left check and that whoosh of air blowing at the strands of his hair. There was no window there; just a plain wall coated with glue and paper. He knew it because he had observed the hallway before eliminating that ghastly trio. _Another one?_

His heart thumped faster than usual. He could feel the chilly shivers behind his neck. _Here goes…one, two, three!_ Ray turned around towards the source of the haunting breeze and blasted a wave of highly protonic energy stream. It first hit the ceiling, and sent burnt plaster to the carpeted floor. As he stood balanced from the pushing force of the beam, he then realized what – or more accurately, who – he was shooting at. Ray instantaneously switched off the proton pack and stared at the figure with anxious eyes.

Right in front of him was a little girl, wearing a white dress with pink laces, and tiny, glittering red shoes. She had wavy hair, tied up with red ribbons into two ponytails each at the sides of her head. She held her little doll tightly in her arms as Ray approached her. From the look of her eyes, she didn't appear scared of the accidental blast, nor did she seem like running away from Ray. He knelt down to face the girl; eye to eye; worriedly asked, 'Gee, little girl, are you alright? Are you hurt? I'm really sorry I frightened you…I …I thought you were a…' 'I want to help you, Mr. Stantz,' she broke off Ray's words.

Ray glanced at her, questionably. Then, he chuckled. _Kids._ He knew the children loved the Ghostbusters, and often enough he found them trying to be like them, trying to help them. But his small laughter unhurriedly stopped as he saw her staring at him with those disturbing aqua eyes. No smile came upon her small red lips. And her eyes, those blue pupils were silhouetted with darkness and…_pain? _Ray swallowed tasteless saliva into his throat as he asked, 'Why do you want to help me, little girl?'

'You're a good man, Mr. Stantz. You beat bad ghosts, you help people…' She held her doll tighter to her chest. 'I…I don't want him to get you…You must stay up late, Mr. Stantz. If that bad man wants to harm you, he'll do it tonight…' She looked down, facing the floor. Her face distorted as she tried to hold her tears from flowing down her soft cheeks. Without warning, Ray felt his lungs clogged with fear. His voice came out slowly like a whisper from his choking throat, 'What….who is this…bad man?'

She looked up towards Ray. Ray jumped backwards in fright and landed on his back. He watched in horror as the little girl's eyes began to form deep, dark holes. Slashes began to cut through her sockets and blood poured out from the slits like painful tears. Her rosy cheeks began to rot and bleed, exposing her white skull and jawbone underneath. 'The bad man known as the Springwood Slasher, the son of a hundred maniacs. He is the dream demon; he haunts every dream he can grasp and kills with his…claws.' She formed a claw-like pose with her fairly composed right hand and scratched the empty space in front of her.

Ray gulped. Cold trickles of sweat began to form at the temples of his head. _That pharmacist…he showed me the same thing! _He stared at the girl wide-eyed, too scared even to scream. Then, a crackle sound ruptured the dreaded stillness. 'Ray? Ray, are you done? We had caught all the ghosts; I think it's time to pack up.' Egon's bass voice mixed with the radio buzz. 'Yeah, and I'm starving for lunch,' Peter barged into the wave signals. Ray didn't dare to take his eyes off the girl, let alone answering his friends' calls.

Silence…deep silence.

'Ray, are you okay? Hey, Ray! Ray?' Ray gasped for air, forcing each huff and puff, in and out of his lungs. He swallowed another gulp of saliva, wetting his dry, hot throat. He glanced at his right. The walkie-talkie was on the ground a few good meters behind him. He stretched his arm out, grabbed it and pressed the second button – Egon's wave. 'I'll…I'll be right down. Just…just need to…clean up the mess…' he stammered into the built-in microphone. He let go off the button and turned towards the little girl again.

She was gone.

* * *

Winston came up the stairs and walked towards the bedroom, after putting in the ten traps into the containment unit. 'Twenty ghosts in ten traps within 3 hours and boy, am I exhausted,' Winston spoke to Slimer, whom replied with a joyful, high-pitched 'Yeaa!' The ghost followed behind him, bringing the leftover from lunch in his hands. Peter was listening to his collection of music cassettes featuring the hottest rock bands in America on his bed, while reading a Captain Steel comic he borrowed from Ray. 'Say, what are you reading there, Ray? Doesn't look like a Toban Spirit Guide to me…' asked Winston as he too, lay down on his bed. Slimer went over to Ray, – who was sitting on his own bed, resting his back against the pillow – while chewing the last of the hotdogs in his hand, 'Huh? Past and Present…History of Springwood, Ohio?' The green ghost scratched his head confusingly. 

Ray giggled at his small friend's reaction. He closed the thick, old book and let his index finger of his right hand to hold on the page he was reading. 'That's right, Slimer. A bit of history reading…who knows when they'll repeat again?' Peter didn't take his eyes off the panels and pictures, but he heard what Ray had said between the riffs of the electric guitars. 'Like it will, Ray…' Ray sighed and winked at Slimer. The winking sign was well understood, and the ghost immediately slimed Peter at the face. 'Eww, yuck! SLIMER!!!' cried Peter in rage and disbelief. 'It sure will, Peter…' Ray chortled. Winston joined in the fun and laughed together with him.

Peter chased Slimer angrily down the stairs to the garage, and the bedroom was noiseless again. Their last laughs ended with a few snorts, then…silence. Only a noise or two is heard in Egon's work room, but neither of them wanted to disturb him and his secret project. 'Yo, Ray! I'm taking a nap for a while. The entire ghost busting at the hotel kind of worn me out…' Winston yawned and placed his head on his pillow. In just five minutes, he was already snoring.

Ray put the book on the bedside table under the lamp. He sighed deeply. He browsed through the whole book but obtained nothing about any murder cases. A few robberies and traffic offenses, but nothing about a slasher. The Springwood Slasher. _Who was he?_

He rested his head against the puffy pillow and closed his eyes. History will repeat itself, that's for sure…but when is the real question in the puzzle. In his mind, he thought of the ghost he met; the ghost of the little girl. _Who are you? Why did you want to help me?_ He thought of the curly buns of the girl's hair, the pink laces, that crimson blood down her cheeks and that warning…_what was it?_ Ray dug deeper into the soil of his memory. Each time he tried to remember, the terrifying sight of her sockets sliced and her soft skin rotting away kept on appearing like the unexpected monster under the bed at night even when the lights were on. Her sweet, small voice jingled in a dreamy resonance inside his head.

'I don't want him to get you…' _Why was he after me? _

'You must stay up late, Mr. Stantz. If that bad man wants to harm you, he'll do it tonight…' _Stay up late. Or he'll harm me. Stay up late. Or he'll…kill me?_

_Better stay up late._


	4. Chapter 4 : The Bad Man

Chapter 4: The Bad Man

A soft, dry breeze hit Ray's face. _Window must be opened…_Ray contracted the muscles above his eyelids, trying to get his cloudy vision clear in the purple darkness of the bedroom. He sighed as he slowly helped himself to sit on his bed, while combing his messy red hair to the back of his head. _It's night already?_ _I thought we're going out for some hot chop sueys for dinner…'_Guys? Hey, guys!' Ray stood up from his bed, wore his slippers and walked towards the light switch. 'Hey, where are you guys? Hello? Hello, anyone home?' He called into the dining hall and down the stairs. His voice came back to him in depleting resonance. The firehouse was empty. 'Damn…they must have left without me…' The thought of the cans of instant minced beef soup in the kitchen cabinet restrained Ray from feeling disappointed with his friends, leaving him alone in the dark firehouse.

He pushed the toggle switch on the wall of the bedroom down, but the lights didn't turn on immediately. It hummed and buzzed, flicking blinding yellow light in the bedroom. Then it gazed off, leaving Ray in complete darkness again. He glanced at the dark light bulbs and sighed heavily, 'Oh, great! A couple of busted filaments…just the last thing I need.'

The only light that barely shone the room was the blue moonlight through the open window. The pastel yellow curtain blew around like the beautiful dress of a medieval princess as she ran past the green meadow. Ray observed the dark corners carefully as he realized the heaviness in his chest was starting to rapidly forcing him to pant for more air. He knew…he was not alone.

He grabbed Winston's baseball bat, as that was the first weapon he saw and the closest object he can reach. He advanced towards the window. 'Who are you? A burglar? A madman? Show yourself!' Bat in swinging position; ready to beat anyone that might come out and suddenly attack him. _What if it's a…something?_ Ray thought rationally between the poundings of his heart. _If whatever is lurking in the corners is a ghost, then I should go down the firehouse and grab a proton pack_. Sweats dripped from his back as his steps were getting nearer to the cast of the dim blue light on the wooden tiles of the bedroom. _But if I turned my back and run to my accelerator, whatever that thing is…it might catch up on me_. For once, Ray wished to have his pals back home quick.

'Mr. Stantz?' Ray turned quickly to the back; again frightened by the small voice…_I knew this voice_. The little girl – who he just met recently in the ghost-busting at the Royal Tenor – appeared before him in the gloom. She still had her doll in her arms, those ribbons in her hair and that clean white dress…Ray let out a sigh of relief; possibly to find the girl instead of some dangerous ghost…or possibly…

_Her eyes._ Ray's body created a dark shadow against hers, and he couldn't see her face clearly. _Are her eyes…still bleeding?_ Ray shook his head a little, trying to splatter the thought away. He then moved to the left, revealing her beautiful blue eyes. _Phew_. Ray bent down and asked the girl like a mother would do to a grimacing baby in a cot, 'Hey…what are you doing here? Want something to eat?' He outlined a big smile on his tubby face. Her face, her blank expression didn't seem to respond to his. Ray held out his hand to her, and said, 'We're not properly introduced…' Her mouth trapped shut. 'Come on. I won't hurt you…although you're a ghost and I'm a Ghostbuster…but you're a good one. I won't entrap you with the bad ones, don't worry.'

Suddenly, her vacant, staring eyes – which reflected the moonlight perfectly in the dark room – widen. Her face twisted in a scowl, as she hugged Ray at his legs. 'Wake up, Mr. Stantz! You're not supposed to be here! Wake up!!' the little girl cried, as she shook Ray's brown pants. _Wake up?_ The girl kept on sobbing while tugging Ray's trousers, as if to drag him to a safer place than this murky chamber. 'Wake up, Mr. Stantz!' Reality and dream began to unify in his head with each sobs the girl let out. _But…I'm already awake. I was just on the bed, reading the old book and Slimer just annoyed Peter…_ 'Wake up!' _Winston said he wants to take a nap and I just…_

_Oh, no…_

'Aww…naughty little brat, ain't she?' A voice emerged beside the window under the flowing sheets of the curtain. A very similar voice. Ray rotated a good hundred and eighty degrees to his back without a word. There stood a man in an old, green-and-red striped sweater, with a brown fedora on his head. Even in the faint light Ray could see that the stranger's face was badly burnt. _No, his hands too…_Ray's eyes caught the immediate attention of the claws. _Scraped the air._ The four sharp claws shone on the man's right hand, like a proud head trophy won by hunter in a hunting trip. Except this trophy was not rusted…and a very dangerous object to play with.

The odd person moved forward, tapping his black shoes slowly onto the timber floor, as he smirked at the little girl; who was now hiding behind Ray. His blue, electric eyes shone evilly towards them; first to the girl, then to Ray. His smile broaden and he said, in a rough, double voice, 'I already told her not to tell, but no, this little unpleasant child just couldn't keep her mouth…shut!' A swish of strong wind blew as he waved his gloved hand to the air, like an angry man shooing a stray dog away. Then a loud, pitched 'mmph!' resounded in Ray's ears. _The girl_. He turned to look at her, only to find her eyes looking at him full of fearful tears, and her mouth sewn shut with green and red threads.

Ray's jaw went down as he watched the little girl crying; with her lips bleeding at the holes where the threads had punctured; helplessly. That mad man looked up the ceiling and laughed loudly, creepily. 'Now it's your turn, my big, childish boy…' He held his right hand high above his head, ready to dig out a lump of fresh white meat from Ray's back. Ray's mind raced, frantically reminding him of the danger behind him. But at the same time his body was preventing him from running away.

Under the small light of the moon, he noticed something between him and the little girl. Something long and blunt, shining shyly beside Egon's bed. _Winston's baseball bat._

Ray immediately grabbed the bat and used it as a shield just in time to defend himself from the killer; who was about to burrow cuts into his flesh. Ray pushed the man away, and swayed the bat right at his head. When the man was withering in pain on the floor, Ray quickly carried the girl and ran towards the garage. _Damn, I left the bat!_ But that was merely a small weapon that could only hold the psycho from attacking for a few minutes. _I need to get the proton pack._ The weight of the girl in his arms never bothered him in this situation. He kept on running down the stairs and…

_The dining hall?_ _No, this is not right…_He ran down the stairs again. And he arrived back to where he was – the dining hall. He tried for the third time, and still he met the table and chairs, instead of Janine's desk and hopefully, Ecto-1. 'No use…' he whispered to himself, amid the heavy breathing. _There's got to be a way out!_ He scrammed towards Egon's work room, thinking maybe they could escape through the window. The sinister laughter boomed loudly in harmony of Ray's fast footsteps. He reached for the doorknob.

_Just a little bit closer…_

* * *

Ray swung the door open, only to find an empty, foggy street; lit with the dim light of the street lamps; instead of books, tools and machines. He walked forward to the eerie stage, staring at the abrupt change of setting. He walked along the small pathway towards the pavement and put the girl down. He turned and glanced at the door, and; instead of the firehouse; an old, broken house stood up in front of him. The most of the wood were consumed by termites to splinters. Uneven cracks structured an awkward deformity on the exterior. The rusted numbers of the house were still visible. _1428_. 

'Hello?' Ray called out into the empty streets. There were no lights in the other neighboring houses. No people, no cars. A big loud echo ringed in the dark black night. This somehow didn't sound and look right to Ray. He felt so…insecure. He paced hurriedly towards the little girl, grabbed her small hand and said 'Come, let's get back to the firehouse.' _If it's still behind that door._ The girl somehow was reluctant to budge away from her standing place. She looked at Ray, and shook her head; left to right, then to the left again; as slow as time could tell.

His grip on the girl's hand loosened a bit. His eyes stared in shock as the previous white mist formed numerous human-like figures, all of them at the height of children between five to seven years old. _No, they_ are _children_. Their appearance was as ghastly and pale as the nasty class fives he often captures into the ghost traps. They all encircled him and the little girl, chanting whispered words indiscriminately through the silent night…

_wake up ray stantz go home one he will get you kill you wake up two you're not supposed to be in here this is a dream no a nightmare run away freddy's coming you can change it help us wake up ray for you stay awake run…_

…_he's here…_

In unity, the little kids turned around facing on the opposite of the road, where the same man who attacked him and the girl in the firehouse stood against the electric pole; smirking at Ray. 'My precious children…' He shoved his home-made claws forwards and made an odd movement with it, as if it was a magic wand. A strong gust of hot wind blew towards them, followed by the screams and squeals of help as the wind blew the vapors into the house through the front door.

Ray shielded his face from the strong air shooting out like cannons with his left arm, while he clutched the girl's small arm tightly in the other. 'Hold on!' he screamed in the noisy sound of the hurricane. He made contact with the nearest structure he and the girl could cling onto…the old tree. Ray managed to chalk up a branch just in time before his feet pointed towards the open door. He held the girl's hand securely, not wanting her to end up like the other children.

The man…_what was his name? It started with F…Fr…Freddy? …_drew himself nearer to the tree, to where Ray and the girl clung for their lives. Freddy didn't seemed to be affected with the strong wind; his clothes didn't wave like flags usually do when placed up the pole near the beach. He put his burnt face close to Ray's and with a bloody smell in his breath; he asked 'You wanted minced beef for dinner, no? I can help you get some…extra raw.' A blinding light beamed through the door, but it didn't prevent Ray from looking at it. Through the door, instead of darkness as expected, Ray could see the rapidly circulating buzzsaws on every corner of the door. _Tighter. Grip tighter_.

But the wind began to change into a blizzard, pushing even the tree into a state where it could break at any moment. One or two scrubs were uprooted, and the wooden poles crooked towards the haunted house. Ray screamed in the howling storm, trying to keep hold of the tree as well as the girl. _The girl?_ She was sliding down from Ray's sweaty hands, and within seconds of tension, Ray lost his grip on her. Realizing this he quickly looked away from the door. Listening to the squashing and cracking sound was enough for Ray to panic. _Wake up! Damn it! Wake up, Ray!_

Freddy was still standing beside the badly bent tree, grinning evilly. _Wake up!_ He showed his claws proudly in front of Ray. 'Enjoyed dinner, my boy?' He placed the razor knives at the base of the branch Ray was hanging on. _Please wake up!_ 'But, unfortunately, Ray Stantz…' Freddy placed his burnt left hand on Ray's hair, combing the fridges backwards. 'I didn't!!' With a swift chop, the limb of the tree was cut off, and instantly sent Ray towards the chainsaws. _Wake up! Wake up, Ray!!_ Freddy's laughter drained in the hum of the blades; clear in his ears now. He could feel the small hooks cutting through his jacket…

_Wake up!_

_

* * *

_

'Wake up, Ray!' said Slimer as he slapped Ray's cheek with his slimy hand. Ray's eyes abruptly opened wide, made Slimer shocked for once. He quickly sat up, breathing slowly. He held his hand towards his chest. _Heart is still beating. Good._ The bedroom was also well-lit; the light bulbs were not busted. He took a quick look at Peter's timepiece. Fifteen minutes past seven o'clock.

Slimer joyfully babbled in his own tongue; the only understandable words were 'chop suey' from his mouth. Winston was at the door, whistling for Slimer. 'Ray, get ready. We're about to head for some Chinese food tonight; don't forget that.' Ray stood up and began to take off his jacket. 'Yeah, sure...I remember. Just give me a few minutes while I change my shirt...' He hung it on his left arm and took out a fresh shirt from his drawer and…_the jacket_…Ray held the jacket into the light.

There was a big torn with small shreds of cotton still visible right below the neckline. He felt lightheaded, and leaned against the wall. _The blades…the girl…to pieces…_

_Freddy…_

'No, I need to finish my work, Peter. Besides, I don't feel like going out tonight,' Egon's voice, coming from the work room, woke Ray from his dizzy state. 'What do you mean? I thought we agreed on an outside dinner today,' Winston barged into the conversation. Egon continued to screw in a small nut into the machine. Without looking at either Peter or Winston, he answered, 'I did, but I only agreed on the food…not about going out.' Bolt tightened. 'Besides, I have to sleep early tonight.'

_Sleep early?_ Ray went towards the room, caught by Egon's words. _Why?_ 'Well, look on the bright side, Egon. You've been in that room for more than a month now. The only time you spent out of from the firehouse was when we went out catching ghouls,' Winston added. 'You need fresh air of Manhattan's night life, Egon.' Slimer nodded with an 'uh-huh', agreeing with that particular fact. 'Yea…fresh air…uh…Janine follow too…' exclaimed Slimer cheerfully.

'Thanks, but no thanks,' he said; although pink blushes made their way through his cheeks and ears.

Peter sighed. He then put his whole right arm on Egon's shoulder. 'Egon, Egon, Egon…do you remember how we used to do things together? Not on the personal side of life, of course.' Peter knelt beside Egon, making a pleading gesture. 'You don't want to let those sweet memories pass us by, do you? We spent a lot of time together…you know, shared secrets …' Egon looked down at his weird friend, and said, 'Firstly, those memories are mostly you copying my homework and assignments. Secondly, the only secret I ever share with you was about my pet dog nibbling your favorite snickers and without realizing you wore the shoes with dog's saliva in each of them…'

Peter grinned with his puppy-eyes. 'And finally?' Egon exhaled. 'Finally…I have to follow your needs till the day I die because you are my closest friend; which includes going out for a little chop suey…but I still need to come back to the firehouse early.' Peter stood up coordinately at the same time as Egon. He patted the scientist's back. 'Good job, Egon. You passed the refraining test. The prize – a combination of hot kung pow chicken and chop suey…and this…' Peter took out and waved a giant bar of rock candy in front of Egon; teasing his candy-loving friend towards the stairs. Egon followed Peter without taking his eyes off the glistening wrapper of the sweets; like a child might do when he or she saw a butterfly. Peter winked at the others, who watched in wonder. 'Works all the time…'

Ray was the last to go down to the garage. His mind was floating away, thinking about the horrible experience he just faced in his sleep. They left the firehouse with Janine's replacement at her desk, and walked together in the cold night, for once, as a whole, true Ghostbusters team. This brought a frightful thought in his calm mind…_ If Freddy was real, will he come back for me again? _His friends; Egon, Peter and Winston, Slimer and Janine; all talked happily to each other. _If I really have to face this killer, will there be a chance I can return to reality again?_ Laughing and smiling. _Seeing the wonders of it again?_

He glanced at his digital wristwatch. 7.59 p.m. _Another one minute to eight. Still a long night to go_. He placed his hands in the pocket of his windbreaker and hummed himself a tune; making it sounded like a background music to his friends' conversations. A beep. _Eight o'clock sharp_. Ray sighed.

_Seven o'clock, eight o'clock…what's the difference?_ He knew he might not even see those numbers anymore if he didn't stop Freddy from murdering him first. _Yes, stop him._ _Good idea. But how?_ Ray tried to dig out all the knowledge he knew about keeping demons and specters at bay. Nothing came out of the book. He thought again…_what's the difference? _

…_seven, eight._


	5. Chapter 5 : The Sleepwalker

Chapter 5: The Sleepwalker

The dark streets of Manhattan were empty as the clock struck 10 o'clock; no one strolling around, only late cabs driving for late-home customers. Dark figures of unknown origin; be it big or small; lurked in the darkness of the alleys. The street lamps lit the concrete blocks of the walkway, fairly gave light to the creatures living beneath it. Cool fog of the night's moistening air swept the old tar roads.

Peter, Winston, Ray, Egon and Slimer waved Janine goodbye as she drove away from the Ghostbusters headquarters to her house. The boys didn't forget to give her a word of thanks and some advices before she drove off alone in the middle of the night. As the red tail lights of her yellow rented Buggy were gone behind the corner of the fifth block, they all went in to the place they call home and locked the main doors.

'Hey, the night's still young. How about a horror movie? I bought a few new ones; they're in the cupboard,' Ray said, as they went up the stairs to the second floor. 'Sounds good to me!' exclaimed Winston, and Slimer approved with a sweet 'Yeaa!' Peter shook his head and smirked, 'You never really learn, do you, Mr. Stantz? Last time you watched a ghost movie, we can barely go to sleep with you screaming in your bed.' Ray's cheeks were flushed red. 'Oh, well…I'll join the watching movie thing…but don't quake the earth when you get to sleep later, Ray.'

They went into the bedroom, took off their jackets and each brought out their own night clothes. 'I won't Peter, don't worry,' Ray said, as he buttoned up his pink pajamas. 'Say, why not you guys play the movie on; I'll make a light supper in the kitchen.' The word 'supper' seemed to ring like a happy shing-a-ling melody for Slimer, and he danced towards the lounge, chanting 'Supper…yea…a-ha…' Winston chuckled, looking at the green ghost's reaction. 'Sure Ray…just don't make pancakes.' Ray gave a thumbs-up at Winston, and turned to Egon.

Egon was sitting on his bed in his blue nightgown, stretching his arms up in the air and yawned widely. 'Coming, Spengs?' asked Ray, although not quite as eagerly as he expected he would be. Egon rubbed his right eye beneath his spectacles. 'Sorry, Ray…but I really...' Another yawn escaped from his mouth. '…need to sleep now. I'm really tired.' Seeing that his genius friend wasn't lying, Ray smiled and said 'Okay, then…good night.' 'Uh…Ray?' Ray halted his steps at the half-opened door. 'Can I have a Hypnocil?'

_Hypnocil? Why do you want a Hypnocil, Egon?_ 'Well…sure. I'll get one for you.' _Are you having nightmares too, Egon?_

Ray went into the kitchen without further questions. He then opened the back cabinet above the counter, and took out the Hypnocil. Slimer was waiting impatiently at the kitchen entrance, hoping Ray would quickly make the meal. Ray took out two tablets, and gulped down one himself. 'For a while, Slimer…I need to give this pill to Egon,' he said, as he filled a clean tall glass with water in it. Slimer responded in disgruntled gibbers, but Ray paid no attention to him and went to the bedroom.

'Here, Egon…the Hypnocil you…' Ray stopped at the doorstep. There was no verbal respond from his bespectacled friend, except a few loud snores. _He's asleep. _Ray placed the pill and the water on the side table, and shook Egon. 'Egon? Egon, wake up…and take your pill…' But knowing his comrade; who was indeed an early sleeper; the small shakings and constant name-calling didn't seemed to take effect on Egon.

'Hey, Ray!' Peter's voice echoed from the lounge room. 'Which video you want to watch? An American Werewolf in London? Nosferatu? Frankenstein?' 'Hey, how about The Exorcist? They say it's pretty scary…' asked Winston. There was a long pause before Peter finally said, 'About a girl possessed by a Sumerian demon and can turn her head a hundred and eighty degrees? I dig.' Ray called out from the bedroom; as he and Slimer pulled Egon to the middle of his bed, and tucked him in his warm blanket; 'Anything, guys! I'll be there in a few minutes…' Ray took off Egon's glasses and placed them beside his pillow. Slimer flew back to the kitchen, where he hoped for the meal Ray promised to make.

Ray switched the lights off, and turned to look at his sleeping friend under the dim light from the window. _Sleep well, Egon_.

_Sleep safe and sound._

* * *

The night was again, soundless. The stars revealed themselves upon the moonless sky, as the night's breeze dragged candy wrappers and yesterday's newspaper along the empty streets of the city. No engines humming this time, only a drunkard's singing in a distant area was heard in such tranquility. At three in the morning, the Ghostbusters' firehouse was indeed quiet. 

Reality became clear in Ray's mind; he could feel the sleepiness depleting, and his vision clearing away the dark smog. He quivered his lips as he felt that tingling sensation between his legs. Knowing he couldn't hold it by forcing his eyes to shut, Ray got out from his bed quietly. He didn't turn on the lights; not wanting to wake his dozing friends up. Ray yawned as he paced down the hall towards the bathroom.

KLING…KLING…SPURRSHHH…

_What the…_Ray halted his steps from advancing towards the bathroom; inches away from the spiral steps leading to the dining hall. There were noises from the kitchen; first the clings and clangs, then the rush of water from the tap. Ray peeked through the big hole, and noticed the light from the kitchen was on. _Who is down there in the kitchen? In the early hours of the morning?_ His heart thumped louder as he went closer to the circle gap that led the stairs to the floor below. _It can't be Slimer…I saw him sleeping in the middle of the room just now._ He held the railings of the stairs with his sweaty hand. _Burglar? Ghost? Or…_Ray gulped hard…

…_Freddy?_

Ray's eyes quickly searched for something his hands could hold on as a weapon. His eyes did catch a glimpse of a familiar object right next to some pile of boxes beside the workroom's closed doors. _Winston's baseball bat._ Ray grabbed the bat and with full caution went down the metal stairs. 'Man, Winston's stuff sure comes in handy…like, always…' Ray whispered to himself in the tense situation.

The sound of the water dashing into the metal sink kept on going, echoing in the quiet firehouse. Ray was already in the dining hall, moving slowly to the kitchen. He held the bat tightly until his knuckles turned white, while crystal clear sweats trickled behind his back and his face. He was ready to strike whoever – or whatever – that was lurking in front of the running tap. As he went nearer to the kitchen entrance…

'Egon!' Ray exclaimed, surprised by his friend's presence being in the place of the stranger he thought of hitting with the baseball bat. Ray loosened the grip on the bat, and finally placed it next to the toaster on the counter. 'Man, Egon…for a second there I thought you were…you were a housebreaker or something…' No respond. 'What are doing here, Egon?' asked Ray. Still, Egon's back was at Ray, with his hands doing something under his own shadows at the sink. _What's the matter with him?_

After roughly ten seconds, only then Ray realized the cocoa powder in the jar was located beside Egon, together with the thermos full of hot water. Egon usually drink hot cocoa to help himself go to sleep; one fact confirmed and guaranteed to work on this Spengler. Ray smiled to himself, feeling silly for thinking nonsense about his pal. Suddenly the tickly feeling below his abdomen suggested him that it's about time to let go off his bladder. Ray bit his lip, trying to hold on as he ran straight to the bathroom.

It didn't take long for him to drain his full bladder into the toilet bowl. Ray washed his hands after and wiped them with his hand towel. Ray yawned and stretched his arms. He thought of taking another Hypnocil, but he thought better of not wasting one tablet for the morning. Besides, it was already half past three; in just a few more hours the sun will rise up the east horizon. Ray walked towards the bedroom, thinking of the warm blanket he would cuddle himself in.

The bedroom was dark, but Ray knew the layout perfectly, thus knew where his bed was even in the total blackness. _Next to Winston's, opposite Peter…_TINK…_Huh?_ The faint tinkling-glass noise sounded, followed by a short rolling sound on the wooden floor. The small light from the window was enough for Ray to see the object he had kicked. He picked it up. _Empty_. Under the same light, he managed to capture the word typed in big letters on the label of the small jar. HYPNOCIL.

_Hyp…Hypnocil? My Hypnocil? But why…why is it empty? Where are all the pills?_ Ray's mind panicked; hysterically trying to find any kind of reason for the loss. _I put the pills in the cupboard…in the kitchen…Slimer couldn't…heck, he never touches pills!_ The label was a little bit soaked, probably the result of being held with wet hands. _Wet…water…water washing away the tablets…_Ray stared at the dark floor; sweat rained down his fearful face…_washing…running through a tap…tap at the kitchen sink…just now…_and he suddenly gasped slowly.

_Egon…_

Ray quickly reached for the light switches and turned them all on as he feared the worst. What appeared under the bright lights shocked Ray even more.

Egon was standing on the side of Peter's bed, looking at the snoring Peter with his unblinking eyes. What made Ray's blood pumping rapidly through his veins was not that sinister look from Egon's face, but the 15-inch kitchen knife gripped tightly in his right hand; with the stainless steel blade pointing fairly close to Peter's body. 'Egon?!' Ray cried out, although his voice came out with a choking sound. He breathed faster as Egon; who clearly wasn't aware of Ray's existence in the room, or just plainly ignored him; held the dangerous object high above his head, ready to thrust it through the blanket. Through Peter.

'No, Egon! Don't!' Ray yelled. Ray forced his body forward towards Peter's bed…_What am I to do? Grab Egon? Grab that knife? No, too late to do that_! Without thinking for another option, Ray quickly went in between his two friends and held his left arm to his face. He narrowed his eyes. _If Egon killed me, at least my face is not distorted badly for the funeral. _Ray held his breath when he heard the swishing noise of Egon's nightgown as the knife was near stabbing him.

_This is it. My end of the line._

However, instead of the swift stab, the shiny blade sliced through his pajamas' sleeve, through his skin and flesh, very slowly and delicately. The instant pain and the constant consciousness caused Ray to scream in pain. Fortunately for him, Winston and Slimer woke up from his yells. 'Oh, man…Ray, I thought you told us you won't throw a tantrum early in the morning…' said Winston loudly as he rubbed his eyes. 'Yeaa…Ray…you say…Yaaaaaaa!!!' Slimer cried out, horrified by what he was seeing. Crimson blood flowed down the knife in Egon's hand…and Ray's left arm.

'Egon! What the heck are you doing?' asked Winston, beyond terrified. Winston's tall, blonde friend fixed his gaze on him, but didn't answer his question. Slimer panicked and flailed his arms out and about, while talking his gibberish language. Winston stood up beside his bed, but didn't move on further; as if his feet had been nailed down with iron stakes when he stepped on the timber floor. Egon smirked and glanced back to Ray.

Peter was the last to wake up in the stressful situation, given that he was a really heavy sleeper. 'Uhmm…Ray…would you pipe down?' A few grunts and grumbles escaped from his mouth. 'I'm trying to sleep…hey, why are you sitting on my bed?' Peter opened his eyes slowly as he sat up. But they opened immediately the minute he saw Egon with the kitchen knife and Ray with his bleeding limb. 'Whoa…did I miss the early Halloween party?' Peter said, and shifted away from them.

Ray stared at Egon's face, while he gritted his teeth to hold back the painful throbbing of the new, bleeding wound on his arm. _His expression…it's…it's not like Egon's…_ 'Egon…what…why did you do that?' Ray managed to huff out a few words in between his shock and fear. Egon…or whoever was in front of Ray let out an eerie laughter. A recognizable laughter. Egon barked at Ray's face, and with a low voice of his he said to Ray's ears, 'There is no Egon…' Then his voice changed to the raspy voice Ray had heard before…

_My precious children…_

'Only…Freddy!' Egon whispered as he smiled a wicked grin.

_Freddy…Freddy Krueger? Oh, no…he possessed Egon!_ Ray stared wide-eyed at his crazed friend. He saw the weapon held up high again, but he was dumbfounded and couldn't move nor hear Winston and Slimer's shouts for him to move away. His heart hammered rapidly inside his ribcage, his breath stuck in his throat. No words came out from his voice box. Ray tried to let go off that feeling; but the more he tried, the more his muscles tensed with that feeling…of fear.

'Gotcha!' yelled Winston as he locked Egon's arms by the armpits with an upward tug when Egon was obsessed about killing Ray. Winston grumbled as he tried to hold his possessed friend still. 'Yo, Peter! Give me hand, will ya? I'm no match for his weird strength…' Without a second hesitation, Peter jumped towards Egon and held his right arm; trying to seize the bloody knife out from his clutch. 'Man…now I wished I had buffed up a little…' Egon turned and turned; attempting to throw Winston and Peter away. 'Damn…what's making his arms so strong? Peter, you gave him your vitamins, didn't you?' Winston grunted as his own biceps hardened. 'No, Winston…Not…that I know of…besides, Egon's not the kind that need any extra vitamins in his daily nutrition needs…' said Peter with much difficulty amid the struggles.

Ray just stared at his two friends refraining Egon from doing any further harm; frightened by the thought of his enemy in his best friend's body. Peter; knowingly seemed like he couldn't hold on for long; finally shouted, 'Slimer! Slime him!!!' 'Ay, ay…Peter!' Slimer called out and made a gesture, as if he was an army who just got orders from his superior to do an important mission. Slimer swiftly flew to Egon, and within seconds coated his face with his green slime in a loud gushing noise. Winston and Peter could feel Egon's struggles ceased gradually, and they let him go. Egon fell flat on his back to his own bed, and the knife too was dropped to the floor. Peter kicked the knife away to the corner of the room.

'Egon…? Are you…okay?' Winston asked, uncertainly. The vast bedroom suddenly fell silent; only the sounds of their slow breathing and Slimer's worried noise were heard. Then, finally…Egon moved his hand on his face and swept away the ectoplasmic residue; while saying, 'Eww, yuck! Slimer, I thought I told you not to sleep above of me…' The air that was once stuck in their throats was released in relief. Winston helped Egon up to sit and said, 'Thank God! For a moment there we're afraid you'll end up in an asylum for the rest of your life…' 'Yeah, a criminally-insane asylum…' Peter agreed; with a nervous chuckle.

'Asylum…what…what are you guys talking about? Why are you all not making any sense?' Egon said as he wiped off the remaining green mucous on his cheek. Peter and Winston stared at each other. 'Egon…seriously you don't remember? Remember what you almost did to me?' asked Peter; astonished. 'Yeah…and you did this to Ray…' Winston moved closer to the wall; opening a new view for Egon – Ray on Peter's bed with the fresh wound, and blood soaking his pajama's sleeve.

'Yeaa…poor Ray…' said Slimer, leaving Egon speechless.

* * *

'And that's when you decided to play Michael Myers on Peter!' Ray told his tall friend in the lounge room. 'Luckily I managed to interfere, or else we might have Venkman steak for breakfast…' Ray chuckled. 'That's not funny, Ray!' exclaimed Peter; although deep inside he knew his young friend was somehow terrified with what happened just twenty minutes ago. Winston nodded; as a sign that he affirmed the truth in Ray's story; while he bandaged Ray's left arm. 

'But…but I couldn't….I didn't…'Egon tried to convince himself that whatever happened in the bedroom was just his illusion, or his friends were playing tricks on him. Then he gazed at the white, clean bandages wrapped around Ray's arm; which finally made him to give up on any excuses. 'Gee…I'm…I'm really sorry, Ray…I didn't know my…problem would make this to you. I feel guilty…I…' stammered Egon. Ray smiled, and said, 'No…it's okay, Egon…but I need to know if…' 'Hey, what problem are you talking about, Egon?' Winston said suddenly; cutting off Ray's question.

_Yes, what problem did you mean Egon? Was it a nightmare? Was it…Freddy?_

'Well…I, err…sleepwalk…That's why I…I need a proper slumber; have my brains to relax and my muscles to tone down…' answered Egon. _No_. 'Ooh…so that's why you want to get to bed early…' said Peter as he clicked his fingers. _No. You're lying._ 'Egon, Egon…why didn't you say so in the first place? We could have tucked you in early tonight, and all of these won't happen…' _You're lying…tell me you're lying, Egon_. Winston gave out a short giggle, 'Man, I tell you what…I think you need to grab a crucifix when you go to sleep…say a prayer or two…that'll probably help you get a good night's sleep…' Winston pat Egon's back. _This is not true. That wasn't you. That was…Freddy._

_My precious children…_

Egon nodded, and smiled. 'Thanks, Winston. I'll try to remember that.' Peter stood up from the second-hand, comfy couch; and said, 'Well, it's a few meters up to the bedroom, we had enough problems to think of in the morning, it's quiet in the streets, it's just an hour or two before the sun rises, and we are wearing pajamas…' 'Let's sleep!' exclaimed Slimer, and went up through the ceiling to the bedroom without a moment hesitation; leaving a trail of fresh slime on the old plaster.

'Wait!'

Ray tugged Egon's nightgown; just as his comrade was about to stand up from his sitting place. The rest of his friends froze at where they were, looking at Ray with eyes waiting for explanations of his sudden command. 'What's the matter, Ray? Need a bedtime story?' asked Peter with a spice of joke. Unfortunately, his chubby friend didn't react nor answer the question he just put forward. Time suddenly felt still, and the area fell silent; as silent as the moment they gambled about Egon's feedback when he was smeared. Ray looked up, and stared straight into Egon's blue eyes with his own brown, terrified ones.

'You…you're lying, weren't you? That…what happened back then…it wasn't sleepwalking; you were having nightmares, and I knew it…' explained Ray; loud enough for Slimer to hear and went down curiously to join the Ghostbusters again. 'You had nightmares too, right Egon? Nightmares…nightmares about…' Ray gulped hard, as if the word itself was a sharp thorn in his throat. '…Freddy?' Winston, Slimer and Peter exchanged astonished looks, but Egon just fixed his gaze on Ray with his mouth shut tight.

'Freddy? You mean like Freddy Krueger, that fictional psycho-demon in the movies??' Winston shattered the quietness. Peter sniggered. 'You got to be kidding, Ray…How on earth would an imaginary character come to our world?' exclaimed his American-African friend. 'Seriously, Raymond Stantz…I think you should cut back on watching the horror movies thingy. It seemed like those films had confuse you between dreams and reality,' uttered Peter; still trying to hold back on the laughter with a wide smile. Slimer looked confused, in whether to believe his red-haired pal or the other three Ghostbusters. 'Owh…I believe you, Ray,' he finally exclaimed in his sympathetic high-pitched voice, and went to pat Ray's back.

But Ray didn't argue back on Peter and Winston, nor did he take Slimer's sympathy. He just stared up at Egon, who was still keeping both his lips onto each other; shutting any noise from coming out. Ray's cheeks began to form pink blushes visible even in the dim light of the lounge room. He forced his stare into Egon's face as he spoke, 'Look into my eyes, Egon, and confess…confess that what you said – about the sleepwalking – was true…and you didn't lie about not having nightmares…' Ray stood up and grabbed Egon by the shoulders. He shook them hard, attempting to get his friend to his senses. 'You saw him, didn't you? Freddy…you saw Freddy in your nightmares…'

'No.' Egon finally said after a few shakes he got from Ray. 'I didn't saw him, this Freddy…I'm suffering from my sleepwalking problem, and no; I don't have any nightmares.' Ray fell silent, with his face showing such a disappointing look. 'Is this explanation satisfying enough for you?' _No, it doesn't…at all._ Ray threw a heavy sigh. _Somehow you know something, Egon._ 'Okay, I believe you. Sorry I doubted you earlier…I was just…' _Please tell me the truth._ '…scared.'

'Hey, anyone will be scared if a scientist became a mad one!' said Peter. Winston nodded in agreement. 'Yeah, Ray. There's nothing to worry about now. Come on, let's hit the bed. What do you say, guys?' Peter and Winston had already moved to the foot of the spiral stairs, without another shot in prolonging the conversation. Egon joined them both just as Ray let the small grip of his nightgown go. 'I…I think I'll stay up…here, in the lounge,' said Ray, when the other Ghostbusters looked at him almost at once at the stairs. Slimer talked his gibberish language, which somehow suggested that he would stay up too with his close friend Ray. 'Whatever you say, Ray. Just don't force yourself too much,' advised Egon, as he went up the metal steps.

_Force myself? To stay alive, I have to_. Ray went to the old couch and sat there with Slimer. He turned on the television and searched for an interesting show with the remote control. He sighed heavily while his thumb clicked the program button multiple times.

_To stay alive._

* * *

The television had shown nothing but static for a few good minutes. That was the sound that woke Ray up from his accidental nap. He jerked and quickly massaged his tired eyes with the thumb and the index finger of his left hand. _Stay awake, damn it!_ He tried to open his eyes wide, but it seemed like the eyelids were hooked with weights more than that of an elephant's. Ray grabbed the television's remote control again and began to search for available programs at four thirty in the morning. The early morning news wasn't on yet. He switched off the small, boxy machine and turned on the radio instead. Even the deejays were not on air. The ache on his left arm had stopped throbbing; not being able to be the cause of his awareness. 

Ray stood up, stretched his arms and walked towards the kitchen, with a hot brew of black coffee in his mind. He placed a spoonful of coffee powder in his mug, a small amount of sugar and warm water, and then mixed them together with a small stainless spoon. He drank them whole, despite the bitterness and the tongue-burning water. He was drinking it with his eyes closed when suddenly Egon's voice echoed in his eardrums. His eyelids opened abruptly and he almost spurted out the bitter beverage from his mouth. He turned to the entrance and there stood his friend; wide awake and looking at him with tired eyes.

'Geez, Egon! Why aren't you in bed? You made a good jack-in-the-box, you know…' Ray said with a smile, as his heart pounded back to normal. His friend in the blue nightgown returned the smile while scratching his non-itchy head and forming redness on his mildly tanned cheeks. 'I'm sorry, Ray…Err, look…about the conversation we had just now; about those nightmares and all…I lied.' Ray's pupils glistened by Egon's words. 'What I did to your Hypnocil, what I almost did to Peter…what happened to me – before I was covered in Slimer's goo – wasn't sleepwalking…I was possessed by my nightmares…by…Freddy.'

Ray tried to breathe in the usual pace, and tasted the bitter stain left on the back of his tongue to keep in touch with reality. _So Freddy had disturbed Egon, too? That bastard…_ Ray forced his face to look content, and went quickly to the kitchen sink; facing away from Egon. 'I think I guessed right, then. So…what nightmares did he show…I mean, make to you?' He turned on the tap and let the clear water flow into the used mug.

Egon rested his right hand on his waist, while the other bore his body weight onto the clean dining table, and started to say, 'Well…I was in a dark street in a very quiet neighborhood at night …there was no one around. There were streetlamps, luckily; but the place seemed…empty…' Ray placed the washed mug on the mug rack to dry out, and wiped his hands with a clean cloth. 'And there was this old, untidy house…with planks nailed to its windows and deep cracks all around the wooden walls. I still remember the number of that house…' _1428._ Ray closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

'Okay…it seemed like you and I had the same dream indeed. Weird as it sounds, but I really had the same settings as yours,' Ray cut Egon's sentence; with his eyes on the tiled kitchen floor instead of Egon. Ray wiped the cold sweat from under his nose with his fingers. 'Damn it! There must be some way out of this…'

_I want to help you, Mr. Stantz._

Ray's eyes widen and he stared at Egon. 'What? Why are you looking at me like that? Want to shout out 'Eureka'?' 'The children…did you see the children? The small kids…they must be victims of that maniac! They all tried to help me to get away from Freddy, one even tried to wake me up…' Ray cried out in excitement and relief. He walked past Egon towards the lounge room, while proceeding on his new found idea. 'There must be a way we could contact them, try to ask them how exactly to stop this fictional demon from killing us!' The television's static sounded louder as Ray approached the couch. 'Or maybe…we can try to find out how he got into our real world and…'

Ray paused; physically and verbally. _The television…but I thought I switched it dead, and turned on the radio instead…_For the second time in that dark morning, Ray's breathing stopped in his throat, his heart thumped like a horse in a race track, and sweats full of fear strolled down his face and his back. There on the old sofa was Slimer; sleeping and snoring with his hands acting as a pillow; and…himself; dozed off peacefully with a left hand on the slimy spud and head slightly tilted. The sight made Ray shiver with gasps of air rapidly going in and out of his mouth. _No…_

'What children, Ray?'

He turned towards Egon, only to find his vicious enemy standing in his friend's place; with folded arms and a wide grin. Freddy walked towards him, with his hands now by his side and the claw glove flaring the light from the kitchen. 'Goody, goody, goody…been sleeping, I see…' said Freddy without letting down his mischievous smile from his burnt face. 'Great idea on the children though, but I wouldn't bet on it…' Ray inched a few steps back without letting his gaze off the danger. 'And I don't think I'll make a good jack-in-the-box…but I can ensure you I make a fine ventriloquist.'

Suddenly the walls of the firehouse echoed with screams and squeals of help, voices of small adolescents shouting for help and crying. Ray looked into the blackness around him in horror 'Thank goodness for little children…they grow – and die – in such delightful ways…' Freddy laughed out loud. Ray was so drowned in the screams and laughter; he didn't realize the reaching, rotting hands emerging from the wooden floor and the ceiling. The small fragile hands grabbed his feet and hands, hanging him up half a meter up above the air. Six or seven of the arms worked like a tentacle; tangling and locking Ray's own arms and legs. Ray tried to struggle his way out; kicking and punching the seemingly weak zombie hands; but to no avail.

'Oh, don't be restless, my dear boy…your genius, son-of-a-bitch friend felt the same way; there's nothing to worry about…' Freddy's raspy, three-voices then changed into Egon's. 'Wasn't that in the equation, Ray?' _Egon's voice. No…don't say…he killed Egon?_ Ray bit his lip hard; in terror, fear and anger. He muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Freddy to catch the words, 'What did you do to Egon? You haunted his dreams too, didn't you?' Ray raised the volume of his voice, 'What did you do to him, you bastard?!! You murdering maniac!' Freddy reacted differently with Ray's outrage; he chuckled happily with those childish name-callings.

Then, with a swift move, a sharp blade of Freddy's claws cut through Ray's skin near the right collarbone. Although the sharp weapon didn't hit his neck or his main arteries, the long papercut began to bleed out small dews of blood. Ray hissed to the sudden sting and felt the throbs growing on his right shoulder. 'Don't worry too much about that friend of yours…he's asleep like a baby in his bed, I can guarantee you that…' Freddy said with a low threatening voice. 'Yes, I did try to kill him…say what you want about me – fictional, not real, fake – but thanks to my fans and your oh-so-genius friend, I was brought to life more than a month ago…' _Egon…called him to the real world?_ 'I tried to haunt him first, because he's the closest I can get to…but he knew he fucked up, and managed to hinder me from his dreams…' Freddy placed his left hand on Ray's right shoulder and dug his index finger into the fresh wound. Ray's groans gradually turned into small screams. 'And you – being the closest to him, being the youngest, the most vulnerable, and the most enthusiastic – made an easier target for me. So don't blame your childhood or your life for this type of ending; blame your ungrateful, untrustworthy comrades instead!'

Freddy pushed in another two fingers into the cut. Ray's screams became louder. In fact, it was loud enough to wake up the other –

_ungrateful, untrustworthy comrades_

– Ghostbusters from their sleep. Somehow, the noise seemed to be drained into another reality; even Slimer didn't move nor react with his shouts_. How did Egon bring him to the real world? Moreover, how did he manage to hold back on his nightmares; to get away from Freddy?_ Ray's mind wandered away for a second. Freddy had prepared his blades high up in the air; ready to strike Ray just as his one victim looked up to the glimmering claws with fearful eyes. Ray shutted his eyes tightly. He knew his end was really coming near this time, unless he was lucky to cheat death again…

_I should have bought an extra jar of Hypnocil…I should have stopped Egon in the kitchen…_Ray's brain began to frantically chant possibilities and consequences. _I should have drunk more coffee. I should have taken a walk in the streets rather than watching that stupid television…_Freddy's burnt cheeks began to stretch out as he formed a big grin. _I should have said a prayer or two. I should have grabbed a crucifix or holy water…_

_Grab a crucifix._


End file.
